


us and them

by spookykingdomstarlight



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Cold War, F/M, Injury, Kissing, Loyalty, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Spy Jyn Erso, The Threat of Nuclear War is Hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 04:02:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9699689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookykingdomstarlight/pseuds/spookykingdomstarlight
Summary: His features took on a flinty quality, harder to read than she’d ever seen. She almost laughed.Where was this man before,she thought.He’s the kind of man who’d pull off what you’ve done. He’s the kind of man I wouldn’t have been able to catch.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alyse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyse/gifts).



The bed sank slightly, shifting Jyn in the direction of the weight now sitting on the edge of it until a hand reached out and pressed at her shoulder and urged her back into place. “You shouldn’t have done that, you know,” Cassian said, concerned and demanding, because of course it was Cassian and of course he was concerned and demanding.

Her throat was dry no matter how much she swallowed, and when she spoke, she was hoarse. “I’ve never cared much for that word.”

“What word?”

“Shouldn’t.”

Cassian’s fingers drifted down her chest to settle on her torso. Too dexterous and cunning, they plucked at the thin fabric of her shirt and tugged, exposing an expertly applied dressing. The room was warm, too warm, but the brush of air against her skin still made her shiver. Outside the open window she heard the bustling sounds of cars and laughter and music, Spanish and English, a bit of French and German, too, mingling as diplomats and couriers, artists and university students went about their business in the nearby embassies, hotels, bars, and museums. Their pressed suits and briefcases, their berets and canvas jackets, all potentially hid the same thing.

She’d lain awake listening to it all, not at all comforted by the normalcy of the noises, the chatter, and breathed through the near-constant throb of pain in her abdomen. Every moment, she’d been freshly surprised to hear no gunshots ring out, no shouts, no cries that sounded like they belonged to Cassian, proof that he’d been caught, finally, for playing a fool’s game in an even more foolish era.

“I should change this,” he said.

When she opened her eyes, she searched for his, but he wouldn’t look at her. A few strands of his hair had worked themselves free from his slick side-part and fell across his forehead to further obscure his gaze. It was the only way he could lie to her; the moment she saw that he was hiding something, it was all over. Every time.

She knew what to look for. Somehow, she’d always known what to look for. This habit he had of trying to hide from her, that was how she’d gotten herself into this mess in the first place.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” she said, swallowing again. A drop of sweat trickled into her eye, but she couldn’t be bothered to do more than try to blink it away. The more important thing was reaching for Cassian, gripping him by the wrist as best she could. “Cassian, it’ll be fine.”

Her words were immediately undermined by the wince she failed to control, but since he remained focused on her wound, and maybe her hand, she thought perhaps she’d gotten lucky. When he finally—finally looked up, she managed a smile for him and a nod. Getting shot hurt, there was no doubt about that, but he didn’t need to _worry_ quite so much about her.

He took her fingers between both of his and chafed them, his palms rubbing warmth into her bones. “Your hands are cold.” He reached for the other and clasped it beneath his touch, too.

She sighed and would have loved to stay like this all day; she’d stay this way forever if she could. The rest of the world—it’s troubles, it’s joys—no longer mattered to her now that she’d found Cassian. Every day the threat of nuclear destruction hung over their heads and every day she’d done her damnedest to avert it. With MI-6, she’d done some good, she hoped. She knew sometimes she’d done the opposite.

Now she wanted to do a different type of good, one that hopefully wouldn’t also result in the opposite.

“Cassian,” she said. “I know you’re with the DSF.”

He stilled, his eyes scanning back and forth across her face, calculating. Would she say anything? Would she tell her superiors? He had to guess that she was with some security bureau or other; of course she had superiors. Was she an enemy? _The_ enemy? Would he have to kill her?

This time, she didn’t hide her wince, because this time, she needed to be upright and there was no hiding the pain that stabbed through her as she shifted toward him. She needed to touch his face, thumb the soft line of his lower lip, feel the smooth jut of his jaw only just beginning to prickle with stubble. Whether he would allow her to do so again was entirely up to him. And oh, she hoped he would.

But she didn’t know for sure.

She had to warn him anyway; whatever he did next, he needed to know.

This time, she looked away. “And I know you’re the leak in their ship.”

If she took this information back to her station chief, Cassian would be dead inside of a day. Maybe they’d make it look like an accident, maybe something else; maybe he’d just disappear and no one would ever learn what happened to him; maybe they’d make a lesson of him. Maybe they’d turn him over to his own organization and let them work him over, keep their hands clean of the mess entirely.

But Cassian didn’t sympathize with the Soviets. He just cared about his home, his people. He only wanted to protect what he could of the place that he loved against the organizations that threatened both the place and its citizens.

No one she knew would make that distinction.

So she had to do it for them.

“I also know the bullet you pulled from me was meant for you,” she added, pulling him toward her, finding her way back to looking him in the eye. “You’ve done what you could to help and they’re about to catch up with you.”

His features took on a flinty quality, harder to read than she’d ever seen. She almost laughed. _Where was this man before,_ she thought. _He’s the kind of man who’d pull off what you’ve done. He’s the kind of man I wouldn’t have been able to catch_.

“Who?” he asked.

“MI-6, CIA. Take your pick. Maybe the KGB, if they think you’ll turn. Which they might very well believe given the trouble you’ve already caused.”

His throat bobbed.

His head tilted in concession. It felt like a victory.

“Let’s go somewhere,” she said, pulling him in and kissing him. He resisted for a moment, his body stiffening, before he leaned toward her, cradling her head with his hands. They kissed for a long moment and Jyn allowed herself to revel in it, forget for a moment that Cassian was in danger. “We have to go somewhere. Anywhere. It doesn’t matter where, but—away from here.”

Cassian sighed against her lips. “Where would I go? My place is here. I’ve only ever done this.”

Jyn closed her eyes. “You once told me there was no such thing as perfect good. Surely doing some good, some imperfect good, elsewhere is better than the alternative.”

Smiling distantly, probably not convinced, but wanting to be, Cassian tipped her head down and kissed her forehead. “Where are you going to go with a hole in your gut?”

“One day you should ask me about Ankara,” she said. “If you want to do this, I’ll manage.”

“You’d risk your own life for me?” He sounded awed by that fact. Jyn merely accepted it as the truth. She would. She had. She’d risk as much as she was required to if it kept Cassian safe.

“I already have, haven’t I?” she said. Her forehead touched his, their breath mingling between them. Her work wasn’t her calling, not like Cassian’s had been for him. It wasn’t so difficult for her to toss it aside. It was Cassian making all the sacrifices here. And she wasn’t sure the trade-off would be worth it to him. “Please say yes. Please don’t throw your life away over this. Go with me.”

“Okay,” Cassian said, voice rough, pained and angry—at her maybe or himself or a world where a handful of global superpowers pulled all the strings and could destroy every last one of them if they wanted to. He’d taken so long to answer that her heart thudded wildly in her chest. She’d known, in that moment, that he was going to say no.

Only he didn’t. “Yes, okay,” he repeated.

Jyn relaxed back against the bed, the tightness sitting in her chest receding for the first time in days, weeks even, ever since she’d pieced the tatters together and came up with mole.

They would be okay.

She didn’t have to doubt that now.


End file.
